Transcript for the Piece Audio version of A Dance Between Darkness & Light: My Struggle With Bipolar Disorder

A Dance Between Darkness & Light: My Struggle With Bipolar Disorder

Music in:

When you hear someone say Bipolar disorder, what comes to mind? What do you think of? Those comedy / tragedy drama masks, or eccentric musicians, who famously fell.

Cut: Hendrix

Maybe you’ve heard the term, but don’t really know what it means. Unlike Jimi Hendrix, most people with bipolar disorder are not open about it, and there are a lot of us. Its been estimated that 5.7 million Americans are Bipolar. That’s 2% of the population, including myself, living mostly in the dark. Unlike a disease of the body, a sickness of the mind fundamentally changes who you are. It messes with your programing like a virus in a computer. Bipolar disorder is especially devastating because of the way it tears you back and forth between invincibility and hopelessness. Even when you find the courage to seek help, doctors can’t see the problem the way they can see bacteria or a broken bone. There are classic symptoms, but they’re not always present, and to be properly treated, you have to be able to explain what’s going on in your head, and at times that can be impossible. Sometimes I imagine how much easier my life would be if I could send my Doctor into my head like in Fantastic Voyage. He could see what it’s like first hand, and know how best to help me. If that were a new experimental program, I’d be the first to volunteer.

Scene: Ship

More than altering your mood, Bipolar disorder alters your story. It fundamentally changes who you think you are, which takes us into the realm of philosophy. Some might argue that who we are is a myth, in the original Greek sense of the word. Perhaps, all we are is a combination of the stories we tell ourselves. If you’re charming or funny or talented, it might be because that’s been written into your story. You are you, because that’s what you’ve told yourself, over and over again. Since we are in my mind, we’re at looking at my experiences, and these are different for everyone, but there are some major things that we all share. As the name suggests, Bipolar Disorder has two main phases, one with ultra highs called Mania, and then the Depression, that is, complete and crushing; these can be separated by long periods of a kind of grey emotional limbo. It goes way beyond extremes of mood though; I am almost two distinct people, not quite Jekyll and Hyde, but not that far off either. Imagine your atoms are tiny metal spheres, held together by an electromagnet. For me, Mania is like having that magnet at full power. There is no fear or uncertainty. I’m funny and charming and great at my job because I know I’m amazing at it. Ideas for stories or essays or musical projects flow out of me day and night. I am a rock star. On the reverse, when I start to fall, it’s like someone powers that magnet down, sometimes slowly, sometimes not. Little bits of me start falling away until there’s nothing left. All that confidence is gone, but even worse than that; I can’t even imagine how I ever had it in the first place. I feel worthless and hopeless and terrified that everyone will find out who I really am.
That is what I mean when I say, I am two people.
As bad as the depression is, the mania can actually be much worse. I said before that when I’m there, I feel like anything is possible, but that can be very very bad, because of course, everything is not possible. Doctors call this symptom extreme optimism, which always makes me think of monster trucks, but in reality it’s more like a race, where the finish line is just past the edge of a cliff.

Scene: Horse Race

If you’re bipolar, it doesn’t just affect you; it affects the lives of everyone around you. It can ruin relationships with family and friends, destroy marriages, and careers. In the end, you can find yourself estranged from everyone who once loved you, broke, and alone, and hopeless, wondering how everything went so terribly wrong. For me, it is a solar system, with different symptoms and outcomes orbiting in different amounts of time. My longest revolution takes about three years. I’ll go to a new place and right away fall into opportunity and friendships and everything is amazing. But after a year or so, things start to go down hill. Like I said before, most people are not open about being mentally ill, so after awhile those around me draw their own conclusions, mostly pretty negative. New places and adventures tend to make me manic so that’s how people first meet me, when I’m full of life and ambition and possibility. But after awhile, those around me see my drastic changes in mood and behavior, and get tired of it, and me. I don’t mean to, but I start burning bridges and pushing people away. By year two, I’m already taking stock of what I’ve destroyed and what I have left. Usually, by the third year I find myself pretty much friendless and alone; ready to escape to a new place full of new people that I’ll inevitably end up disappointing.

Cut: Godzilla

Sometimes I think Godzilla was Bipolar. Maybe he comes into town with all the best intentions, but before long the city is reduced to a smoking ruin, and the whole population is fighting against him. Somewhere between 25 and 50 percent of people with Bipolar disorder will at least attempt suicide at some point in their life, with about 15% being successful. Even when you’re at your highest high, you know it’s just a matter of time before you fall all over again. You’re trapped in a cold and endless loop. In the end, it is a fight every day, but you just have to keep moving. There is no crew that can beam into your head and fix this. There is medication, but that only goes so far. Mostly, it’s a strong and quiet resolve and friends and family who love you and understand and are patient enough to keep you around: To stand by you as you forever dance between darkness and light.

Out: